To start, the HGM was in a beautiful Catholic church in the city. So I was like, mmmkay, I know what I'm in for. Except I didn't. We got there, sat in our respective pew and looked over the program. It looked like it was printed on a brown paper lunch sack, but I guess they were going for a rustic look. The invitation said it started at 1 pm. But you know my people; it didn't start until 1:30. That's on time for us. And boy, did it start with a bang. Springing out of the vestibules were 4 teenaged girls in what looked like white PJs. Then the Kirk Franklin blasted out of the speakers, and the liturgical dancing began! Oh Mah Gah. DH grasped a hold of my hand and we quaked with internal giggles.
I finally figured out why I can't stand liturgical dance. They're not really dancing! It's just a bunch of arm-waving and bowing. Plus, NONE of the dancing girls were smiling. They all looked dead in the face, just flailing and bowing and whatnot. They had the same facial expressions as jaded strippers. For reals. It was awful. And it went on for-farkin-ever. But finally it ended.
The processional was pretty normal. Everyone looked ok, I guess. The colors were aqua blue and brown. I didn't love it, but it wasn't hideous. The eyebrow raisers were that the MOH's dress was one of those mullet dresses; you know, tea length in the front, but gradually floor length in the back. Meh. The other was that the GMs had on BROWN TUXES. Yep. With tan vests and aqua ties. They looked like Milky Way bars. But the groom had on a normal black tux; he at least looked normal.
This was a full on Catholic mass. Readings, chanting, responses, homily and everything. The only thing not included was the eucharist. That's because we had to leave room for ANOTHER LITURGICAL DANCE NUMBER between the statement of intenSions and the actual vows. Which, BTW were exactly the same, word for word. They basically said their vows twice. I guess they thought we were so blown away by the majesty of Liturgy-O-Rama that we'd need a refresher. I was really like WTF. This is not Prince Hakeem marrying his Queen-To-Be.
I almost forgot a fun part of the priest's marital sermon was praying for the poor single women who had no man to care for, and thus had no real purpose in life. I snorted loudly at that one. Fine stuff coming from a perpetually single man with the faint air of pedophile around his profession.
I realize this is too long, so there's a pt 2. I don't know why it won't make paragraphs.
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